


Mr. Jones and his amazing mouth

by seratonation



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Aliens, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-03
Updated: 2008-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was a band playing and everyone was dancing. Everyone, that is, except for John and Rodney, who where sitting at one of the tables. Rodney told himself that someone had to keep an eye on John because he’s already had a few drinks and there was no telling what he’d do.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Jones and his amazing mouth

The mission to P5X-923 went surprisingly well. The locals were very accommodating and had gladly agreed to trade some of there fresh fruit and beer for the medicines that the ‘Lantians had offered. The best part of the deal was the festival that had followed the  negotiations that celebrated their new trade partners and allowed said partners to try their products; the almost pineapple, the could-be mangoes and the possible guava, and of course, the beer.

 

The planet itself was a tropical one, with many islands and rocky hills and grass going down almost to the beach. Rodney wandered if this is what Hawaii would be like.

 

The night was warm, every now and then a cool breeze would make the trees sway, there where benches and chairs arranged in a large circle and a bonfire in the center. There was a band playing and everyone was dancing.

 

Everyone, that is, except for John and Rodney, who were sitting at one of the tables. Rodney told himself that someone had to keep an eye on John because he’d already had a few drinks and there was no telling what he’d do. Teyla and Ronon were no where in sight, but it was impossible to tell who was who in the flickering of the bonfire.

 

 Rodney himself had only taken a few cautionary sips from his drink after being assured by John that there was no citrus in it. John of course had no such cautions and he’s finished his first jug within a few minutes of sitting down and now, several jugs later, he was slumped across the table talking about a camping trip he went on as a little kid. 

 

“And then- and then Steve was like ‘Aaaah’ and we all laughed but then Terry, good-ol’-Terry, was like -” he cut himself of as the band started a new song. “Rodney!” he said, excited “That’s Mr. Jones, isn’t it? By Counting Birds? Or something?” He frowned, unable to remember.

 

Rodney didn’t answer. He didn’t know that song and doubted it was the same one, considering it was an Earth song.

 

“I used to know a Mr. Jones,” John continued, sagging happily back down, “was boring as hell, a banker or something, but man, he had a great mouth.” Rodney frowned, what a strange comment. John’s eyes were even more glazed over now, “Could do great things with his tongue, you know,” And whoa, did that mean what he thought it meant? And really that was too much information, “he could do this twisty thing,” and he poked out his own tongue and tried to demonstrate but ended up moving it to one side then the other. “It was very good.” he concluded, “You know,” he repeated, “you have a great mouth too, all nice and tilty,” he waved his half full cup in Rodney’s direction and Rodney’s great mouth tried not to quirk at the complement, “especially when you do that half smiley thing…”

 

“Colonel,” he said, “I think you’re very drunk.” He probably didn’t know what he was saying.

 

“And I think,” he stopped as if trying to remember what he thought; “I think you will never like me anyway, because you can't ask, and I can't tell.” Rodney didn’t know what to say to that, but John didn’t seem to mind that the conversation was one sided. “Besides,” John continued as if he hadn’t just made a major confession, “you’re in to blondies, with the short hair, like that Sam lady.” And he waved his hand as if to say _you know_.

 

“Colonel Carter?” he volunteered.

 

“That’s right, Colonel Sam,” he said, “but she doesn’t like you, not like _I_ like you, _I_ know that,” he pointed at himself with the jug, “ _you_ know that,” he pointed at him “we _all_ know that,” he waved his jug around before taking a gulp from it, “but there’s one thing I have to know,” he said leaning in and talking quietly, his face flushed from the heat and alcohol, his eyes dilated, voice husky, “can _you_ do great things with _your_ tongue?” and he closed the gap between them, meeting Rodney at the lips, but as Rodney pushed up John’s limp form, he wondered if it was counted as a kiss if the person initiating it had passed out the moment their lips touched. He thought probably not. 

 

He put John’s arm around his shoulders and pulled him up, and as John leaned heavily on to him, he gave a quick look around to see that their hosts weren’t looking, but everyone was too busy dancing and drinking and generally being loud. There was still no sign of Ronon _or_ Teyla so he half walked, half dragged John back to his tent, took of his shoes and put him to bed for the night.

 

 He went out again and looked at the party in the distance. Now that John was out he didn’t see the point of going back so he turned his back on the distant glow and went in to his own tent.

  


  


***

  


The next morning at breakfast with the locals, John sat next to him.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, “I didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did I?”

 

“How do you mean?” he asked, taking a bite of the eggs they where provided.

 

“Like I didn’t marry the chief’s daughter or anything?”

 

“Not this time, Colonel.” He replied, half smiling, then he remembered what John had said last night * _especially when you do that half smiley thing…*_  


 

“No,” he repeated, “although you did mention Mr. Jones and his amazing mouth.”

 

The look of horror on John’s face was priceless.

 

The end.

 

The song that is mentioned in here is actually Mr. Jones by Counting Crows. I’ve always thought it was a sad song hiding behind a happy song. Lyrics can be found [here](http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Mr-Jones-lyrics-Counting-Crows/8FA8FDDCDAE1A071482568B10027B245).


End file.
